Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written (Read 264013 times)

TopHat · « **Reply #2205 on:** May 20, 2017, 03:25:35 pm »

"Well, thank you; it's been a pleasure, though I'd best be off now. Could you tell me a bit more about Makala before I go, though? It certainly sounds like it would have been an... intriguing place."

Well, that was... anticlimactic. Finish it off with a best of luck etcetera and then it's back out into the market.

penguinofhonor · « **Reply #2206 on:** May 20, 2017, 10:10:22 pm »

I bid the watchstoat farewell, wish him luck with his cat situation, and quickly head in the direction of the sighing tree. I definitely don't want to be near this tower after sundown.

Toaster · « **Reply #2207 on:** May 21, 2017, 07:04:13 am »

"You know... her. Her? I heard a voice, said she fell in. You know. Uh."
I guess if everything is secure and everyone is ready, go in? Should probably ensure sword is on my person.

Harry Baldman · « **Reply #2208 on:** May 27, 2017, 10:34:54 am »

Quote from: Xantalos on May 19, 2017, 05:02:09 pm

"Very true, but circumstances arose in such a way that I couldn't make it anything less. Making a juggler is quite an involved process, as I've found out. But I do understand the lack of conduct that may have implied - please convey my apologies to the captain if you have the chance. I don't intend to upstage him again in the future."

Daniels awkwardly scratches the back of his neck during this apology.

"Nevertheless, it's over and done with, and now I have a new friend! Would you like to meet Dan?"

Introduce my new insectoid flying acidic horsemeat juggernaut friend to my ludicrously elegant sword-wielding good at fighting friend.

Two Shores shakes her head gently. It is not a matter of the captain's forgiveness, she regrets to tell you. The relationship between the alchemical nobility and the rest of El is based in simple and straightforward notions of ownership through debt, whether incurred personally or inherited. Your status as one without an owner, a foreigner and a curiosity, is relevant to the captain's interests as an individual seeking higher status among his peers. He would seek to own you as well, but you resist, consciously or not.

Indeed, she says as you introduce Dan to her, you seem to own other people instead, whether they be jugglers or unfortunate wanderers or even the captain's own crew in the case of the three girls you've retained for a pittance. And your powers, though perhaps nothing impressive in the grand scheme of things, are nevertheless significant in the face of the captain's own. You have posed a challenge to one among the nobility. And as is often the case with one conscious of their own relative unimportance, the captain forgets these things rarely, if at all.

Surely he couldn't be that offended at an expression of pure skill that he is retroactively willing to say occurred in his honor, Dan clicks at Two Shores, who responds rather frankly that, while she's sure Dan provides scintillating conversation if your own relationship with him is any indication, she is utterly incapable of understanding a single thing he may or may not be saying.

Quote from: TopHat on May 20, 2017, 03:25:35 pm

"Well, thank you; it's been a pleasure, though I'd best be off now. Could you tell me a bit more about Makala before I go, though? It certainly sounds like it would have been an... intriguing place."

Well, that was... anticlimactic. Finish it off with a best of luck etcetera and then it's back out into the market.

[Tales From The Far East: 2]

Oh, Lady Craik says, just a bit? It's hard to say just a, hurk, just a little bit about a place like Queen Makala's Land. Shining domes, hic, and caves of ice! Miracles of rare device! The land where science comes to die and be preserved. She remembers, hic, she remembers the days in the glacier colleges...

Lady Craik's eyes fog with milky recollection. Queen Makala's Land, she could tell you how it all began, hic, and how it all went the way it did. But she'd have to have tea first, hic, a lot more tea. And maybe some music to set the mood. So if you're not in, hurk, in any sort of rush, well, she'd be delighted to tell you the whole sordid thing.

Quote from: penguinofhonor on May 20, 2017, 10:10:22 pm

I bid the watchstoat farewell, wish him luck with his cat situation, and quickly head in the direction of the sighing tree. I definitely don't want to be near this tower after sundown.

The watchstoat isn't terribly heartened as you bid farewell, even with you wishing him good luck. Luck is what got him into this, he murmurs. It'd be downright unreasonable to expect it to get him out.

Figuring his problems aren't likely to be solved by your presence, you decide to take Oggie and the doctor along to explore the woods for that tree. What could possibly make a tree sigh, the doctor muses as you walk, mineral deficiency? Regret about centuries ill-spent rooted to one spot? Heartwoodbreak? Her minimal botanical expertise offers little in the way of solutions.

[The Grove of Sighs: 2]

And after a little bit of a walk you find the tree in question, standing tall and alone in the middle of the woods. Its branches have leaned down and it looks scarred all over as if worked slowly over with an axe along the entire surface of its bark, some of the fresher sections still slowly weeping resin. Despite this it does not look wild and overgrown - in fact, it looks obsessively pruned, and its growth carefully constrained to form unnatural shapes. There are seven main branches, and each one lays heavy with what looks to be a nest arranged from twigs torn from the tree itself and woven into an underlying whorl of wood.

Within each nest you see a creature perhaps half your size, sharp-eared with shining, disturbingly humanlike eyes and a black coat with a wet sheen to it. Their whiskers prick up at your approach, heads poking out of nests as they all turn their malevolent attention to you, a low rumbling filling the air as the tree groans and buckles under the catlike beasts' persistent vibration. In a large hollow in the very middle of the tree, carved out by a multitude of claws altogether more recently than you would expect, a single luminous eye opens and looks upon you and your associates heavily, posing a wordless question that even you cannot seem to interpret.

Eaters of sorrow, Oggie says and crosses her arms. What terribly unusual creatures they look to be, the doctor says independently, and intriguingly non-hostile as well if not particularly welcoming.

Quote from: Toaster on May 21, 2017, 07:04:13 am

"You know... her. Her? I heard a voice, said she fell in. You know. Uh."
I guess if everything is secure and everyone is ready, go in? Should probably ensure sword is on my person.

Gamble doesn't appear to know what you're talking about, but is prepared to go with you anyway. So you point the sword forward and descend down the length of rope.

[The Stygian Abyss: 5]

It can't be more than fifteen feet that you descend into the hole, but you are struck by the staggering apparent enormity of the chamber you manage to land into, the very clear and alarming sensation that where you now stand is the horizontal equivalent of a bottomless pit, an endless black subterranean wasteland as far as your eyes can fail to see. You point your sword around, but even though its grayness is clearly visible no matter how far into the darkness you try and shove it, it casts no apparent light of its own.

Gamble lifts the lantern up as he stands next to you, and says something that you can barely hear in the deafening silence. Something about it being dark. You try to listen for the woman's voice, and call out as loud as you can. Surprisingly, the response is crystal clear.

Over here, the voice of the woman shouts from the deep darkness, she's over here! Stop standing there like an idjit and help! She thinks she's sinking! Give her a hand or summin'! Quickly now!

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Spoiler: GM Note (click to show/hide)

Xantalos · « **Reply #2209 on:** May 27, 2017, 05:52:37 pm »

"Ah, that's unfortunate then," Daniels says, leaving it ambiguous as to what part of her answer he's referring to. "I'll find a way to address it in the future, I think."

He then motions to his juggler friend and says, "Dan says that surely the captain wouldn't be offended by a display of great skill which he could easily say was held in his honor."

Toaster · « **Reply #2210 on:** May 27, 2017, 10:32:43 pm »

"Right, coming!" The alarm bells continued to fail to ring in Thomas's ears.

Go looking. Perhaps keep a hand on the rope, or an eye on the exit, or some such.

penguinofhonor · « **Reply #2211 on:** May 29, 2017, 06:28:25 am »

"Well, I guess we're dealing with this situation whether we want to or not. Stay on your toes."

I step toward the tree to observe this eye more closely, trying to discern its purpose. I also keep an eye on the cat creatures, watching for any signs of aggresssion.

TopHat · « **Reply #2212 on:** May 29, 2017, 02:58:20 pm »

"That sounds just fine, actually; I'm not in a rush."

Story time it is, then.

Harry Baldman · « **Reply #2213 on:** May 30, 2017, 06:09:22 am »

Quote from: Xantalos on May 27, 2017, 05:52:37 pm

"Ah, that's unfortunate then," Daniels says, leaving it ambiguous as to what part of her answer he's referring to. "I'll find a way to address it in the future, I think."

He then motions to his juggler friend and says, "Dan says that surely the captain wouldn't be offended by a display of great skill which he could easily say was held in his honor."

He could indeed say that, Two Shores agrees, but this is a fairly transparent attempt at concealing his true motive - Dan acts according to precepts that you have set down, good sir, and when he displays skill, he displays it to impress you specifically and to earn your approval. The captain's opinion is wholly incidental, as you could no doubt order Dan to slay the captain and devour his flesh, and Dan would doubtlessly give it his best effort. You are Dan's owner in a way none other could be.

Dan clicks back a little halfheartedly that this does sound like a fairly intriguing concept - the devouring part, mind you. The captain seems to have a surplus of unusual flesh. There is a great deal about self-sustainability he could learn from someone with meat like that on him.

In any case, Shores shakes her head, it does no one any good to be grim about things. The captain will settle down at some point, even if you can expect him to challenge you at a later point - but she would advise you to cave at this point, for she has never seen someone successfully live through genuinely trying his patience twice.

In the meantime, would you like to meet with her in the morning? She feels she could teach you a fair deal about putting your unusual skills to more efficient use, if you can stand to bring them to bear against her sword. The journey westward should take a few days, which ought to leave plenty of time for practice, particularly if the good captain continues to sulk for the next few days.

Quote from: Toaster on May 27, 2017, 10:32:43 pm

"Right, coming!" The alarm bells continued to fail to ring in Thomas's ears.

Go looking. Perhaps keep a hand on the rope, or an eye on the exit, or some such.

[Reaching In The Dark: 3]

You do keep a hand on the rope - keeping an eye on the exit is sadly an ineffectual practice, as you've lost sight of it almost immediately. Gamble's light grows dimmer and dimmer, and eventually all you can do is follow the voice in the dark, this woman's voice that you came in here for. You need to remind yourself this every now and then as things become fuzzier as you go on.

When you reach something resembling a hole, but honestly quite ineffable in shape, even the rope in your hand feels ephemeral, halfway a product of the imagination in this strange senseless void you're walking into. Nevertheless, the voice is still urging you on - you're here! Come on now, stop being an idjit and give her your hand! Get her out of here!

You start to reach your hand forward, and it immediately goes to sleep as you plunge it into an abstraction of liquid helium, a physical oddity that your mind does not entirely comprehend and that, indeed, seems almost actively hazardous to your attempts to understand it. You try to think, but it gets altogether too difficult to think of anything other than putting your hand forth and grabbing at the woman's hand - so this is what you do, for lack of an obvious alternative.

Except when you pull, the weight of whatever it is you actually grabbed and even its shape feel profoundly wrong. Your thoughts tell you to stop, but are cut off, strangled by an unknown force. You continue to pull at it, and you realize that what you were pulling was not a hand at all - rather, it was a thread. And appropriately enough this is when things begin to unravel.

The darkness parts, revealing that it was but a thin film formed over something deeper and more frightening still, a black hole that hungers not for mere light or matter, but things far more insidious and complex. You stand on the threshold of a monstrous, alien presence, and it reaches out to you like an old friend that you've never met, overflowing with freshly harvested warmth in the freezing chill.

Welcome. It has been some time. Your contribution of a source entitles you to three questions answered, and one wish fulfilled (see: reward schemes, first-time bonuses, relative value of sources).

Quote from: penguinofhonor on May 29, 2017, 06:28:25 am

"Well, I guess we're dealing with this situation whether we want to or not. Stay on your toes."

I step toward the tree to observe this eye more closely, trying to discern its purpose. I also keep an eye on the cat creatures, watching for any signs of aggresssion.

[The Depths of Despair: 3]

You stare the eye down and get closer to the tree. This appears to be enough to get its interest in a more direct way, and at a certain distance the eaters in their nests start to stand up and curve their backs in catlike postures, raising their hackles and making diseased growls reminiscent of dogs with severe bronchitis. They quiet down slightly when the central eye looks straight at you and leans forward, out of the hollow.

Whereas the other creatures are broadly catlike, the thing that leans out of the tree seems like a gruesome parody of all of them, one that appears to have grown beyond all reason and lost its bones, its many limbs resembling furry, hooked tentacles that wind along the side of the hollow as what used to be its head leans forward, its eyes seemingly merged into a single, polycoric whole that's grown large enough to retreat down through a dissolved palate, giving its face the appearance of a single, dominant eye with jaws for eyelids and teeth for eyelashes.

Closer up, its question seems clearer - what do you want, trespasser? Why do you interfere? And what is required to force you to leave? While they do not appear to exactly know what you are, their instincts clearly and accurately mark you and your associates as a danger of some kind, and an unanticipated one at that.

Quote from: TopHat on May 29, 2017, 02:58:20 pm

"That sounds just fine, actually; I'm not in a rush."

Story time it is, then.

After a perhaps underwhelming session of work Lady Craik is more than happy to settle down for another round of tea, this time in a slightly different parlor than before. Queen Makala's Land is a favorite topic of hers - she studied there a while, hic, did you know?

In any case, the story of Queen Makala's Land is one of perseverance in the face of entropy! Once a beautiful, hurk, an absolutely beautiful garden nation, a rival to the wondrous land of El itself! A place of freedom and expression and poetry and, Lady Craik starts to gesture wildly, fingers creaking and locking into strange positions, yep, all of that good stuff and, hic, all of it built through a solid command of the arts of science! They could do from mere principles what the alchemists do through, hic, cheating of the very worst kind. Truth and beauty, that was the nature of Queen Makala's Land.

But then, Lady Craik hangs her head theatrically, her vertebrae poking into the thin worn skin of her neck, then their time was, hic, it was really quite cruelly ended. The stars of the Corner turned against them, untethered something vital, changed the most important underpinnings of something - that's what, hurk, that's what time-enders do, you know. They change things up, break them, ruin all things they touch. They made the shining sea the same as they ruined old deathless Queen Makala. And that's when the ice came and covered all. Glaciers slid down from above and grew overnight, and the sun shone no longer upon the land. Their luscious farms died and men froze in their farms. The earth became hungry and ate the great universities, sealing them into the depths of the miles upon miles of glaciation...!

Such a tragic, hic, (pardon her language) bloody tragic loss to the art of science was Queen Makala's Land. Not that all was lost, mind you. There's marvelous things you can do with all the things that got trapped in the ice. The universities in particular, they were not so much buried as they were... encysted, so to speak! Which, when combined with the creativity of its inhabitants, let them put their, hic, not inconsiderable talents (if you'll permit her to toot her own horn) to the topic of survival and preservation! Pressure and ice applied so quickly gave rise to fascinating minerals, and the friction of the disaster that caused it, well, that gave rise to its own, hurk, its own milieu of peculiar materials. It took scarcely a century or three, in fact, before the universities, the three or so that persevered in their own way, to excavate a way upward among the shifting glaciers.

Of course, that last part is, hic, secondhand knowledge. Lady Craik herself did not live to see this happen, but from what she hears among the fresher dead, before they invariably go, the Makalan spirit still lives on today, in a place too cold for even the Wicked King to dare pull into his influence, lit by gas flame and powered by ingenuity. Oh, Lady Craik says as she weeps a single thick tear from her left eye, would that she could see it now! Those shining domes, hic, those caves of ice!

You see her looking out into the distance, what you believe to be far eastward - she is wondering, and still lightly weeping at the thought of her homeland.

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Xantalos · « **Reply #2214 on:** May 30, 2017, 02:54:26 pm »

Daniels nods. "Fair enough. I'll ask that you also coach me a bit in how social protocol does work around the captain at some point then, since I'm sure if I act on instinct I'll end up offending him again. Thank you for taking the time in any case. Same place as before?"

He chuckles when he hears Dan's suggestion. "I do understand the draw of it, but I'll ask you to hold off on that if you can. I doubt he'd acquiesce voluntarily and I haven't the faintest idea of his capabilities beyond the faintest impression."

Though I believe I can change that soon enough, he thinks as he considers the disabled manikin in his possession.

penguinofhonor · « **Reply #2215 on:** May 30, 2017, 09:22:08 pm »

Hm, it's more intelligent than I thought. And creepier.

"If you satisfy our curiosity, my companions and I will leave peacefully. I want to know your purpose here, and with the stoatman nearby."

TopHat · « **Reply #2216 on:** May 31, 2017, 02:14:44 pm »

"Remarkable! I'll have to visit, at some point. A pity about the time-enders, though. Speaking of, what do you know about them and the Corner? I've heard a little, but not much. "

This list of things to see before I die just isn't going stop growing, is it?

((Where are my manners? How were the final exams?))

AoshimaMichio · « **Reply #2217 on:** June 01, 2017, 02:59:02 pm »

Alright. Let's show those swines business! With the spear. That's the thing for this business.

Harry Baldman · « **Reply #2218 on:** June 02, 2017, 09:35:19 am »

Quote from: Xantalos on May 30, 2017, 02:54:26 pm

Daniels nods. "Fair enough. I'll ask that you also coach me a bit in how social protocol does work around the captain at some point then, since I'm sure if I act on instinct I'll end up offending him again. Thank you for taking the time in any case. Same place as before?"

He chuckles when he hears Dan's suggestion. "I do understand the draw of it, but I'll ask you to hold off on that if you can. I doubt he'd acquiesce voluntarily and I haven't the faintest idea of his capabilities beyond the faintest impression."

Though I believe I can change that soon enough, he thinks as he considers the disabled manikin in his possession.

Same place as before, Two Shores says and allows the slightest smile. She looks forward to some proper practice.

[Scent of a Captain: 6]

As for the captain, Dan seems to have got a fairly good idea of him from their relatively brief acquaintance. It helps, he clicks, to have a fairly good sense of smell. The captain smells like death. Insecticide. The friction on him does not entirely make sense. He is lighter than he appears, apart from when he wishes to be otherwise. He is a balance of intriguing smells that nature has yet to master, but he does not seem like a fighter. He is like a queen, sedentary and useful for his own purpose. Not enough mandibles to be formidable. Dan would be interested in finding someone with proper mandibles among their number. If they are not good enough, it would be interesting to eat a piece of them, make use of their insights.

You discuss this and more, but eventually most everyone seems to have packed it in on the ship with their various injuries sustained in Dan's exciting dinner theater debut. A few watchmen hang about, and some laborers still go about their business in town, making final preparations to set off in the morning, carting a few last loads of valuables on board. Two Shores was kind enough to prepare a rather nice cabin below decks for your enjoyment even if you do not technically need it, and that's where you seem to eventually end up, considering the manikin you thoughtfully rescued from Dan's acidic mucus.

[The Manikin's Secrets: 1]

Your manikin appears to have gone to sleep in the meantime, or possibly died. Hard to tell with manikins, you suppose. You poke at it, but it doesn't particularly stir, and seems to have gone quite stiff. Would have expected a longer battery life on something that clearly sophisticated, truth be told. Maybe the captain really is a bottom feeder.

Dan curls up in the corner of your cabin after clicking you goodnight, forming a shape one might very fatally confuse for a chitinous bean bag chair as his many extremely sharp limbs sort themselves out into an inner ring of absolute death.

Quote from: penguinofhonor on May 30, 2017, 09:22:08 pm

Hm, it's more intelligent than I thought. And creepier.

"If you satisfy our curiosity, my companions and I will leave peacefully. I want to know your purpose here, and with the stoatman nearby."

[Humoring A Gawker: 4]

The elder thinks, its jaws narrowing. Then it begins to explain in earnest, uncompromising detail.

Their purpose is to digest him, slowly. He possesses a resilient psyche, accustomed to dullness and routine. Imaginative and sometimes hopeful. He will make a fine nest for many eggs that will raise another generation, perhaps even an elder as capable as itself. But to perform this feat, he must be broken, terrorized, made unsure of what he is and the things he believes are real, afflicted with a madness both pervasive and overpowering beyond his capacity for reason. So they howl and hound him, as it has forever been and must forever be.

In the end, he must seek them himself. And it is then that, the elder gestures with its boneless paw, that it will raise it like so, it makes a rather sharp upward motion, and place eggs where his mind once was. From them a new brood will eventually rise. Until then he will be happy, his sorrow eaten by the new generation until nothing but joy remains. He will wander far and free, and eventually he will die - when he does, it will be near a tree, and in this tree the new generation will make a new nest. And then the cycle will continue, with another of his kind.

That is all. Leave now, and go in peace.

Quote from: TopHat on May 31, 2017, 02:14:44 pm

"Remarkable! I'll have to visit, at some point. A pity about the time-enders, though. Speaking of, what do you know about them and the Corner? I've heard a little, but not much. "

This list of things to see before I die just isn't going stop growing, is it?

[The Northern Lights: 6]

The time-enders, hic, about as odd a kind of people as you'd ever find. They live up on the Corner of the World, along the side of the mountain. You can see them, hurk, see them up in the night and watch the lights come up, and go out every now and then. Not here, mind. The miasma's a little too thick in the Kingdom proper, and only, hic, gets deeper as you go on.

Goodness, Lady Craik says as she drains a cup of tea and immediately pours herself another, they're terrible folks, these time-enders. Sorcerers and worse - they call them time-enders because, hic, because that's what they do! They bring the end times. And they come whenever they feel like, like deaths of whole civilizations. Your time comes, the time-enders destroy all that your people were, almost all that they ever represented - it's, hic, it's a bloody crying shame is what it is. A crying shame.

She's not kidding either, her oily tears have started to flow rather freely. They come around, she says, they, hic, come around and go 'hey, what's all this then' and, hic, they go and, hiccup, and they destroy. But not like a, hic, plague or a war, hiccup, hic, they break something, hic, very fundamental! The very stuff, hic, the very stuff of all things! They end time itself! They think, hic, that it's bloody funny, she's sure. Come in and, hic, just pull at at thread and bring it all crashing down, hic. Just take away the sun, 'cause they felt like it!

She hiccups a few more times bitterly, drinking her tea and gently creaking as she shakes with subdued rage. The Corner used to be a mountain, they say, before the, hic, time-enders came. Now it's infinite, and no telescope or mind can comprehend its end.

Lady Craik looks at you grimly, messy trails of not-quite-tears on her otherwise immaculately stretched face. She'd like to, hic, she'd like to be left alone now.

Quote from: AoshimaMichio on June 01, 2017, 02:59:02 pm

Alright. Let's show those swines business! With the spear. That's the thing for this business.

You brandish the spear and make a brave charge at the darkness! TO BATTLE, screams the elder, MAKE THE BASTARDS REGRET THEIR SPAWNING!

[Take The Bastards Down: 6]

You're not sure how much of the screaming is you and how much is the elder, at some point the distinction becomes academic as you and a plethora of Moths off their goddamn gourd charge at the anonymous darkness and have at whatever is in the way like a rampaging berserker tribe. And that's really a force no mere darkness could ever hope to stop, so it does not even try as you all trample over the dread and horror and stab the very notion of retreat in the heart, which skips in your chest several times as you continue to swing and thrust the spear wildly, occasionally hitting something soft enough to classify as a hit. The screaming doesn't stop as you continue a triumphant charge!

THE BELLY OF THE BEAST, the elder continues from very far back, probably still on his back, HAVE TO GO FASTER, BREAK THROUGH, DESTROY IT!

[Rend the Heart: 2]

And you do! Sort of. There is a gnashing of terrible teeth and the sound of your spear hitting something harder than itself. Something chips. The spear shaft cracks ever so slightly. You punch it, but that only hurts and you feel kind of at a loss for a second. But only for a second.

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TopHat · « **Reply #2219 on:** June 05, 2017, 11:01:11 am »

[teal]"... Of course."[/color]
Lovely; I'll have to be more careful with that measure of theirs when I get it fixed.
Leave, then look for a ye olde DIY shop or equivalent; you never know.
I could have probably picked up some copper from the labs, come to think of it. Possibly the graphite, too. Ah, well.

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Author Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written (Read 264013 times)

TopHat

Re: Our Salvation: We Can't Stop Here

penguinofhonor

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Toaster

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Harry Baldman

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Xantalos

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Toaster

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penguinofhonor

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TopHat

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Harry Baldman

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Xantalos

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penguinofhonor

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TopHat

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AoshimaMichio

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Harry Baldman

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TopHat

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